poetry & things

Memory of the shore

When I was a bird, a crow

black winged upon the shore and sunning

in the tangle of days, salt and seaweed wrapped

watching oceans seep and move between the rocks,

the light jump away between the moss and blackened cracks

I waited for the warmth of afternoon, the reveal of seas retreating

watching waves, oysters and clams, the rolling of pebbled sands

hours in the drift, sifting shores for broken mollusk shells

all of my days dredging between storms, in love

with the sea and sky.

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